Going Home(Extened Version)

TITLE: Going Home
AUTHOR: Zephyr
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
RATING: R
PAIRING: D/Hr(B)
SUMMARY: Hermione was forced into hiding three years ago. It is time for her to come home. What she finds when she gets there is not what she expects.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: For Inell who along with this request asked if I would expand on the drabble I wrote a while back. So here it is love the extended version of Going Home. Congrats on five years of wonderful writing and I hope this is what you were hoping for. More notes at the end.

Part 1:
A Prison of Larger Room


Hermione crunched into her apple and sighed as she looked out into the foggy morning. She absently turned off the alarm clock when it buzzed shrilly. The fog hanging low in the upstate New York valley reminded her of the fog that would roll off the lake at Hogwarts, in Scotland. Her heart clenched when she thought of her former life her never forgotten home. True, she had grown up out side of London, but Scotland was her home.


She had been Hogwarts’ Head Girl and set for graduating with top honors until that night three years ago. She had to leave in the dark of night and steal away from her second home like a thief. Leaving behind everything and everyone she held dear.


Minerva McGonagall had come to Hermione’s Head Girl room and woken her from a sound sleep demanding hurriedly that she pack only a few things in a bag. Hermione had haphazardly thrown some clothes in a bag and when she tried to stuff her beloved copy of ‘Hogwarts: A History’ inside as well, McGonagall had summoned the book from her hands.


“I’m sorry, dear, you can’t take it.” Hermione looked up with wide confused eyes, “You can’t take anything of the wizarding world. Please hurry, Hermione. You’ll understand everything soon.”


What Hermione soon understood was that she had to run away and hide like a coward. It was the one thing she had fought them on tooth and nail but here was was living an ocean away from her family and friends having no idea if they were still alive or if Voldemort had finally kept his long promise to lay waste to Harry, Dumbledore and every muggleborn in Britain.


She left every book behind, her robes, and most heartbreaking, her wand. The one item that had become such a part of her that she still reached for it in her back pocket when she forgot and tried to do a bit of magic. At seventeen, eighteen if you counted time accumulated with her use of a time turner in third year, Hermione was on her own in the middle of Heathrow Airport. All she had was a small carry-all, a USAir ticket, several hundred dollars in muggle cash, a passport, and a credit card with a name other than her own on it.


For three years she lay hidden in the United States cut off from everyone she knew. After some hunting she found a job working in a factory to keep a roof over her head and food in her belly when the money ran out. She kept to herself and she wanted to go home. Every day of the three years she searched the muggle media for any sort of news and always looked to the sky hoping to find an owl on the wing trying to locate her.


The only bright spot in her dreary existence was working on her own to develop her skills in wandless magic. At twenty soon to be twenty-one the small magics that she could now do wandless were the only links she had to her lost hopes and dreams; university, then an apprenticeship, and finally teaching at Hogwarts.


With a wave of her hand and concentrated effort Hermione vanished the apple core and got ready for another dreary day at her dreary job.


Hermione gathered up her lunch bag and her car keys. She paused on her way to the back door when she heard the peal of the doorbell. She never had a visitor before dawn. Hermione cautiously walked through her apartment to the front door and slowly opened the barrier.


“Yes?” she said.


“Jane Gage?”


There were two men standing on her stoop, one with pin-straight blonde hair that fell into his grey eyes, the other with a mop of black curls and bright blue orbs that stared at her with a searching look.


“Yes, I’m Jane,” Hermione answered.


“Thank Merlin, we found you!” The blonde said with a grin. He took two steps forward and swept her up in to his arms. He dragged her out on the front porch and swung her around then soundly kissed her surprised lips. The dark haired man repeated the process right down to the kiss and Hermione was quite dizzy when she was finally set on her feet.


“We were told to give you a message,” the dark haired man said as he looked into her face, “The war is over and Hogwarts needs a new charms teacher. The new Headmistress told me to tell you one thing in particular because this dolt wouldn’t be able to remember it.”


“I resent that, Zabini,” retorted the blonde.


The dark haired man just smiled in return. Hermione slipped out of the dark one’s grasp and pulled her door shut behind her. ‘Zabini? Where have I heard that name?’ she thought to her self as she turned back to the men on her stoop.


“I’m sorry but I have to get to work,” she said as she tried to edge around the bickering men and get back inside. She was so afraid because the men were obviously wizards. Merlin, and Hogwarts were names that only a wizard would know. Her only hope was that she could make it to her car and get away from them.


“Please, Her-- Jane,” the dark haired one said catching her elbow as she tried to get by, “The Kneazle needs to come home. The Stag and the Labrador need her to come home.”


Hermione sank to the stoop at his words. Home? Britain? Hogwarts? Harry and Ron?


“Granger, are you all right?”


Hermione looked up and recognition flooded her shell-shocked mind. Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini. Slytherins? They had sent Slytherins to bring her home?


“Here.” Hermione looked up and saw Draco Malfoy holding something out to her. Her wand.


Hermione took her wand and giggled as a stream of golden sparks trailed from its tip as she swished it experimentally. “Malfoy, if you weren’t such a prat I could kiss you right now.”
RealReally?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “Maybe I’m not such a spoiled git any more and perhaps you might be Gryffindor enough to find out.”


With eyebrows raised at the teasing challenge Hermione watched him turn on his heel and mutter something about packing. Blaise put an arm around her shoulder and walked with her back inside the apartment.


“You do know he’s had a crush on you since you slapped him third year don’t you?” he told her with a mischievous glint in his eye.


An hour later with a sharp tug at the navel Hermione was spinning back to Britain, back home. She was finally going back to a world that held more promise that yesterday had, of friends, of learning, of family, and of love.



PART 2:
My Whinstone House, My Castle


There it was, Hogwarts, bright and shining in the late morning sun. Hermione drank in the sight of the castle and breathed in the sweet air surrounding the castle. She was sill riding a wave of disbelief when she realized that she was walking and trusted Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini enough to take her from hiding and bring her back to Hogwarts. They were on opposite sides two years ago and now, now she just didn’t know.


It looked as if nothing changed from the day she left except for two scars in the earth, dull and blackened, a place where nothing would ever grow. Hermione’s brows drew together at the sight and looked at the man at her side. Blaise Zabini looked troubled as he too glanced at the scarred earth. That was enough to shake Hermione out of her thoughts.


“Blaise, are Harry and Ron alive?” Her voice was soft and wavering, she wasn’t sure that she wanted to know the answer. With another look at his dark eyes Hermione had her answer, one or both of her best friends was dead or seriously injured. “Tell me Blaise.”


*~*~*~*~*


Draco stopped walking when he realized that he was also alone. He turned around to see Hermione talking to Blaise. Hermione Granger. The muggleborn know-it-all that he delighted in teasing mercilessly when he was younger until the day she came up missing. He hated to admit it and had denied for so long that he had feelings for the girl. That is until she was no longer there to torment.


For a week after she went missing he had pestered professors, the Headmaster and finally resorted to pestering Potter and Weasley for information. He had taken his due lumps for that but he had an unfathomable need to know where his nemesis had gone. His life was strangely empty when her bushy head wasn’t filling his vision, when he couldn’t annoy her and feel happy that he had gotten her notice, when he couldn’t just stare at her from across the library as she scribbled studiously on parchment after parchment.


When she had opened the door he had instantly known that it was she, Hermione Granger, his nemesis, his challenge, the girl who got away before he could tell her how he felt. His heart had swelled at the sight of her and he almost forgot about their history. As he looked down the hill where she stood with Blaise it hit him full force just how much he needed the bushy haired mudblood in his life.


He drank in the sight of her like a starving man. She was just as he remembered she had the same bushy brown hair, deep brown eyes that reminded him of the richest dark chocolates Honeydukes had to offer. The three years since he had last laid eyes on her had treated her gently, her body had filled out during sixth year but now she was curved and soft, having lost the angles and awkwardness of adolescence. When he closed his eyes he could see her even more rounded and curved her flat stomach rounded with--


Draco shook his head and closed his eyes trying to rid himself of the forbidden image. She would never belong to him and never be the one to swell with his child.


His eyes tracked down the hill and he took an unconscious step forward when he saw his obsession in the arms of his so-called friend. The prat wasn’t supposed to say anything about Potter or Weasel. Draco shoved his hands into his pockets and turned away from the scene. He tried to convince himself that seeing her in Blaise’s embrace didn’t rip his heart from his chest and leave it beating in the dirt.


*~*~*~*~*


Draco leaned against the wall outside the infirmary and just as he predicted Hermione was rushing toward the doors that separated her from her former friends. He stepped in front of her before she could slam the doors wide open.


“Out of my way Malfoy,” she hissed.


“Granger, I’m sorry but I can’t let you just barge in there.” Draco said softly.


“Why the hell not? They were... are my friends,” she challenged


Draco grasped her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. “Hermione listen to me. They are not how you remember them. Remember that scarred earth out there? That didn’t appear one day out of nothing you know.”


“I know that Malfoy. I know that is where Voldemort fell and where Ron was hit by some kind of curse.” Hermione said shortly and again tried to move around Draco.


“You don’t understand Hermione,” he said before she shoved him out of the way and stalked into the infirmary. He ran after her but was too late Ron Weasley had already seen her.


“Hermione Granger, my mudblood friend.”


“Ron?” Hermione asked softly, never before hearing her friend use that awful word.


Draco watched intently as the ginger haired man slowly advanced on Hermione. Ron Weasley had changed since the magic rebounded to him. When Harry had killed Voldemort the dark magic the evil wizard had harbored for so long needed a vessel to contain it and Ron Weasley became that vessel. The magic slowly drove him mad until he was as he was now.


“I’ve missed you Hermione,” Ron said almost gently when he stood in front of her. He reached out as if to take her in a hug but Draco saw the maniacal glint in his blue eyes.


“Hermione, no!” Draco yelled as he darted across the room. To late to save her as Ron Weasley wrapped his hands around her neck rather than her shoulders.


“Weasley let her go!” Draco t to to wrench Weasley’s hands off her throat as she anxiously clawed at them both desperate for breath.


“Why should I Draco,” Ron sneered in response, squeezing harder, “if memory serves me, it was just a few years ago you laughed at the thought of a mudblood being taught her place.”


“Weasley let her go! She was your best friend, you insane idiot.” Draco yelled as he reared back with his fist and slammed it forward into Ron’s sneering grin.


Thankfully, the violence had the desired effect and the red-haired man fell back, his eyes rolling white and his hands finally released Hermione’s neck. Draco’s eyes narrowed when he saw the ring of welts around her neck. He drew his wand from inside his robes and pointed it at the unconscious red haired git that damaged her.


“Expelliarmus!”


His wand was ripped from his hand and went spinning away. He spun around to find Blaise standing behind him with his wand still raised.


“Why did you do that? He was hurting her.” Draco raged.


“She’s still hurting Draco.” Blaise said dryly, looking pointedly at the witch on the floor.


“Get Madam Pomfrey!” Draco said urgently as he turned back to Hermione and helped her up off the floor. He led her to an empty bed and retrieved his wand from where it had come to a rest on the floor.


Draco soothed away the bruises the best he could with his meager knowledge of medi-wizardry. He didn’t stop her when Hermione slid from the bed and moved to where Harry Potter lay unconscious. He didn’t stop her when she brushed the wild black hair from Harry’s forehead. He didn’t stop her when she choked back a sob and kissed her comatose friend on the lips. He was there to hold her when she spun around and dissolved into tears.


Poppy Pomfrey bustled into the infirmary just as Hermione’s tedimidiminished to a few sniffles. She clucked her tongue at the scene before her and as she opened her mouth to speak Draco dreaded her words because he knew what the medi-witch had to say would upset Hermione further.


“I told Minerva that something like this was going to happen. It is long since time they should have been transferred to St. Mungo’s.”


Hermione’s head snapped up. “Transfer them?


“Oh hello Miss Granger, glad to have you back with us,” Madam Pomfrey said quickly upon noticing Hermione’s presence then continued on as if she hadn’t stopped, “Of course St. Mungo’s. I won’t have time to care for Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley as they need once the term begins. Hogwarts students have a knack for getting themselves into trouble.”


“I’m here now, Madam Pomfrey,” Hermione quickly pronounced, “I’ll help take care of them.”


“Miss Granger, if I am not mistaken, you will be taking a teaching position very shortly and you will quite busy enough with your students. Mr. Weasley is in need of a team of curse breakers and mediwizard psychologists, especially if he cannot be freed of the dark forces that have taken residence in his body.” Madam Pomfrey joined Hermione next to Harry’s bed and looked down sadly on the young man who still was very close to losing his life, “And Mr. Potter, I have done all I can for him, dear. St. Mungo’s is the only place where there might be a hope of saving him, saving them both. Surely you understand this?”


Draco opened his mouth but was cut off when Blaise interrupted Hermione’s desperate protestations. “Hermione, come on lets go for a walk.”


As Blaise led Hermione away Draco stared daggers into his so-called-friend’s back. For the second time in twenty-four hours Blaise Zabini had moved in where he was meant to comfort and show Hermione that finally Draco Malfoy grew up and got a few ideas about life that his father didn’t p the there.



Part 3:
Keeping Horses From Betting on People


The next two weeks were pure hell for Draco. It seemed that for every moment he had alone with Hermione, the traitor had two. He saw them everywhere, huddled together in the Hogwarts library, heads together at the high table during the sorting, sitting together sharing a cuppa in the teacher’s lounge, it was driving him mad.


If he didn’t need to speak with the turncoat he wouldn’t be waiting for him now in an office well away from the Slytherin dungeons where Draco kept his rooms and office. It seemed Zabini wasn’t just a traitor to his friends but to his house as well. Draco knew that he was being unreasonable but the fact that Hermione seemed to prefer Blaise to him grated on his ego and caused him to act like the eleven-year-old prat he once was. He blamed the eleven-year-old inside him for making him take Blaise’s chair behind the desk and prop his feet up on the neat polished surface. His arms were folded over his chest and his eyes were narrowed at the nonchalant wizard across from him.


Blaise had entered his office and irritatingly never batted an eyelash when he found Draco his chair. He just silently sat in one of the receiving chairs and stared Draco down until he could take no more. He let his booted feet slam to the floor and began pacing the small room.


“Draco, you need to learn how to relax,aiseaise observed with a smirk.


“Bugger off Zabini,” Draco growled in response.


“Now Draco, you know I don’t swing that way for just any wizard, though there is a certain witch who may find the activity interesting,” Blaise said with a knowing look as he silently counted, ‘five, four, three…’ He smiled when he was hauled out of the chair by his collar and slammed violently against the wall. Draco was just too easy when he worked himself up into a dither.


“Take that back,” Draco said menacingly.


“You know as well as I that still waters run deep and if anyone has hidden depths it would be the delectable Miss Granger,” Blaise said softly leaning into Draco’s body, “We could share her.” Blaise smirked again when Draco pushed away from him with an oath. “Or not. You were never one to share your toys were you?” Blaise asked nonchalantly.


“Damn it Blaise.” Draco said as he ran his hands through his hair finally realizing his friend wast fst fucking with his head.


“Draco you make it so easy.” Blaise said with a smile. He crossed the room and poured two glasses of a dark amber liquid and pressed a glass into Draco’s hand. “You need to tell her how you feel, mate,” Blaise said wisely, “You can’t go on this way.”


“I know that but do you know how hard it is to have a conversation with her when I remember how horrible I was to her for seven years, how I never got a chance to apologize before they took her into hiding.” Draco slumped back into a chair. “ Who am I kidding? She’ll never feel anything for me but the vague sort of feelings one has for an acquaintance.”


“Well then you have to convince her of your sincerity,” Blaise advised, “Take her for a broom ride over the lake some evening and talk to her.”


Draco burst out laughing. “You can’t be serious. Hermione Granger on a broom? Blaise, surely you remember that the one thing she could never master wasing ing a broom.”


“How about a wager then?” Blaise asked with a sly glint in his clear blue eyes.


“What kind of wager?” Draco asked warily, knowing better than to trust a fellow Slytherin as far as he could throw him.


“If I can get Hermione on a broom you will wear the costume of my choosing for Hermione’s party,” Blaise held up a hand to forestall Draco’s imminent protest, “Furthermore the wager is that I get Hermione on a broom a sufficient height off the ground and I will even further wager that she will out-strip even your quidditch trained speed.”


Draco burst out laughing at the thought of Hermione ‘Stay-on-the-ground’ Granger beating him in a broom race.


“Blaise my friend if you are sure you want to loose a wager you’re on,” Draco smirked, “and if I win I’ll do the same. I have something pink and fluffy in mind for you.”


A week passed and with the whirlwind of classes to teach and the first Quidditch practices starting Draco ptlyptly forgot about the inane wager he made with Blaise.


*~*~*~*~*


Hermione sat in the stands of the quidditch pitch waiting for Blaise to finish supervising the Slytherin team’s practice.


She had been spending most of her free time down here. Blaise was insistent that he could teach her to fly where Madam Hooch had failed. He was a patient teacher but she had a feeling that there was an ulterior motive in his teaching her to competently fly a broom. She still couldn’t understand the bet hde wde with her just a day or two before.


She had been complaining about the jerkiness of her starts and stops, not quite unlike learning to drive a manual transmission though Blaise hadn’t a clue what she was talking about when she had described it that way. She laughed when Blaise told her that given the right incentive she would be able to fly as smooth and as fast as any seeker. Then he made the silliest wager she had ever heard. He wagered that she would even be able to out-strip Draco Malfoy. She laughed in his face.


Hermione was ripped out of her ruminative state when the book she was holding was snatched from her lax hold and smug male laughter rang in her ears. Her head snapped up and she looking into a pair of laughing grey eyes that she almost didn’t recognize.


Hermione really looked at her former tormentor for the first time since he and Blaise had shown up on her doorstep. His features had sned ned over the years gone was the thin, sharp, pinched face of the pureblooded prat she remembered and in his place was a man who seemed content and sure of himself. Of course there were times when the old spoiled Draco came out to play but those times were few and far between.


“Like what you see Hermione?” Blaise called from her left.


She blushed but retorted with a grin just the same, “What’s not to like?”


Hermione let her eyes sweep over Draco’s lithe form as he red red on his broom a short distance away tossing her book from one hand to the other. Blaise glided over to her then leaped from his new Corona 3600 and landed nimbly near her.


In a voice just loud enough for Draco to hear what he said he leaned in to her, “You know Hermione, it was Draco who charmed your diary to appear on Snape’s blackboard in sixth year.”


Hermione’s eyes narrowed as she pinned the blonde with a glare. She snatched the broom from Blaise’s hand and swung her leg over it before she could even register what she was doing. “Run Malfoy.”


In a flash he was off and she was hot on his tail. She was pressed low over the broom urging it faster and faster as she followed Draco’s every move. He tried to throw her off with loops and barrel rolls, even a steep dive that brought them close to the ground.


‘Faster, Faster, Faster.’ She silently urged the broom.


As the broom edged forward she climbed up on the shaft of the broom and then dove for Draco when she was level with him. She caught him by the shoulders and went tumbling to the ground, only a few feet below them. They rolled over and over until they came to a stop and Hermione pinned his shoulders to the ground her knees braced on either side of his hips.


Later when she considered what happened next she couldn’t say what made her do it but instead of giving him a tongue-lashing for posting her diary for the whole of the Slytherin-Gryffindor sixth year class she gave him a tongue-lashing of another kind.


In the privacy of her quarters she replayed the kiss in her mind and felt heat suffuse her body. His hands had knotted in her hair as he pulled her closer and deepened the impromptu kiss. She still felt as if tiny sparks were going off inside her, her lips still felt swollen and her body ached with an unfulfilled need. Hermione closed her eyes and she let her mind wander into that forbidden territory as she manually sated her body enough for sleep to finally take her.


As she drifted off to sleep Blaise’s final words rang though her m


"Your costumes will be waiting for you the day of the party."



Part 4:
Etiquette shall soon exist no more

“Absolutely not!”


Those two vehement words rang from opposite ends of Hogwarts castle upsetting every owl napping in the owlery.


“I look like a whore in this,” was followed by the equally disgusted, “I look like a bloody ponce, Zabini.”


It went without saying that Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy had gotten their just desserts for entering a bet with Blaise in the first place.


Hermione put her hands on her hips as she stared into the mirror. She was a wench, literally. The white blouse was cinched tight by a scarlet bustier and did nothing to conceal her breasts but rather framed them, pushing them up to form lush plump pillows where average tits once were. The petticoated skirt was a frothe of red satin and black lace and her legs looked shapely in fishnet tights and high-heeled granny boots.


“Hermione looklook wonderful. Very…” Ginny Weasley, whose friendship Hermione had mourned the most when she was forced into exile for her own safety, paused clearly at a loss for words.


“Slutty,” Hermione finished for her.


“Sultry,” Ginny amended.


“Strumpet,” Hermione argued.


“Sexy. Now stop,” Ginny said, “Tonight is about fun. Just relax, drink a little, let the guys talk to your chest and choose one of them to shag. How hard can it be?”


“Well, considering that I haven’t seen any of these people in three years. I suppose I have to put in an appearance. Shag any of them I think not, though the one I would I doubt he wants anything to with me in that way.”


“Oh Hermione has her eye on someone?” Ginny nearly bounced herself off Hermione’s bed in excitement, “Who?”


Hermione shook her head as she thought of the man with the annoying attitude and stormy eyes.


*~*~*~*~*


In the bowels of the dungeons and on the other side of the castle a similar conversation was taking place.


“You really want me going up there dressed like a bloody poofter?” Draco whined as he looked into the mirror.
“Yo “You do not. You will have every female there drooling after you,” Blaise assured him even as he kept silent his opinion that Draco would also be drawing a few male eyes as well.


“If I don’t get arrested for indecency first,” Draco observed.


The pants Blaise had provided were impbly bly tight. They were melded to every muscle of his legs and were stretched tight over his arse. They also would leave little to the imagination when it came to his current emotional state. The boots were knee high monstrosities of leather. If the shirt he wore were any puffier he would be floating away not to mention the amount of smooth skin it revealed over his chest.


“Something’s missing though,” Blaise said as he fingered his wand.


“Blaise?” Draco said warily.


He didn’t catch the whispered incantations Blaise threw at him and when he looked into the mirror again was speechless. He didn’t recognize the man staring back at him. Translucent white skin was now golden and wind roughened, as if he had spent several weeks at sea on the open ocean. His hair was quite a bit longer past his shoulders in a tangled mass tamed by a strip of leather, a single braid swung by his ear heavy with several beads.


“What do you think?” Blaise asked hesitantly.


“Besides the fact that you have me dressed as if I were that poof Lockhart on a budget?” Draco said with a smirk as he put the tri-cornered hat on his head and with a flourish strutted from the room.


‘I was more thinking Depp, but Lockhart works,’ Blaise thought as he followed Draco.


*~*~*~*~*


The party was in full swing and people welcoming her back surrounded Hermione, keeping Draco on the fringes of the room until he couldn’t take it anymore. His forceful stride and determined look parted the sea of people and he couldn’t have cut through the crowd any faster if he had a sword.


His quarry’s eyes widened when she saw him coming for her but she didn’t resist when he gathered her in his arms and after a searching look spun her around and escorted her from the room.


Later it would be said that Miss Hermione Granger was heard to say that Draco Malfoy could kidnap her anytime, a sentiment that was echoed by many that night.


Though as he watched the couple cross the room, the dark haired Quidditch Master sauntered over to a scowling Headmistress. "So, my dear headmistress. I'll be seeing you in Green and Silver come Saturday's match." Blaise said as he nodded toward Draco and Hermione sharing a kiss as they ducked out of the teacher's lounge. 'When will people learn never to make a bet with the quiet Slytherin,' he thought to himself as Minerva McGonagall pursed her lips and gave him a resigned nod.


Quite pleased with himself and the success of his plan he helped himself to a firewhiskey and began to brew another devious plot. How to get himself invited into the new lovers bed? He downed the fiery liquid and left the party himself the beginnings of an idea coming together. As he walked the halls to his quarters he smiled smugly as he remembered something that someone had said once.


‘Never trust the quiet ones.’


*~*~FIN~*~*


Author's Notes:
E-mail: inell@aol.com
Are you over seventeen?: yes kng(ing(s) of the fic you want: R-NC17
Rating(s) you're willing to write: R-NC17
Things you want your gift to include:
a. Post-hogwarts
b. Costume party
c. Romance & a happy ending
d. Snarky Pirate! Draco
What you don't want your gift to include: character
death, too fluffy or OOC
Any Squicks/Things You Won't Feel Comfortable Writing:
Angst or character death

Author’s Notes For the Original ‘Going Home’: 30 min Challenge: 9:00pm – 10:19pm Ok So It took me an hour and a half by the clock but a half hour in there I had to get the hubby out the door for work. Beat me with a wet noodle if you must but I blame the bunnie. It wouldn’t let go. Please overlook any errors this has yet to be beta’d.

* An apple
* Fog
* A clock
* A kiss
* A conversation


Chapter Quote Sources:
For the whole world, without a native home, Is nothing but a prison of larger room.
Author: Abraham Cowley
Source: To the Bishop of Lincoln (l. 27)

My whinstone house my castle is, I have my own four walls.
Author: Thomas Carlyle
Source: My Own Four Walls

Horse sense is a good judgement which keeps horses from betting on people.
Author: W. C. Fields

Such pains, such pleasures now alike are o'er, And beaus and etiquette shall soon exist no more At their speed behold advancing Modern men and women dancing; Step and dress alike express Above, below from heel to toe, Male and female awkwardness. Without a hoop, without a ruffle, One eternal jig and shuffle, Where's the air and where's the gait? Where's the feather in the hat? Where the frizzed toupee? and where Oh! where's the powder for the hair?
Author: Catherine M. Fanshawe
Source: The Abrogation of the Birth-Night Ball